


Hold Your Own

by starkly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkly/pseuds/starkly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony follows through on his promise to hold Rhodey's own after the battle with Ultron is done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Your Own

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-AOU, contains spoilers. Is exactly what it says on the tin. We all know [what I'm talking about](http://fuckyeahteamironman.tumblr.com/post/119132354153). I’m sure plenty of people have already beaten me to this but whatever, I wrote it, it’s getting posted. All my Tony/Pepper or Tony/Rhodey fic is OT3 implied because I can’t break any of them up, it’s impossible.

The two of them are stretched out at opposite ends of a couch in the trashed living room of the Avengers Tower, still a mess from the Ultron fight a few days before. Rhodey knocks over an empty beer can with his foot and says,

“Reminds me of college.”

Tony looks up from the half empty glass of soda he’d picked up from the end table beside him. “There were less killer robots in college.”

“Barely. I visited you in the robotics lab. Should’ve known this was coming.”

Stifling a yawn, Tony shifts to sit sideways on the couch so he can face Rhodey. “So this is it. You’re supplanting me. I’ve been replaced.”

“Nobody could ever replace you—” Tony beams. “—is what I assume you want to hear.”

Tony’s face falls, and he would stick his tongue out at his so-called friend if he wasn’t already occupied sipping at the remains of the flat soda. “Outrageous.”

“You’re what’s outrageous. It’s time for you to retire, man, you’re getting old.” Rhodey manages to keep a straight face, more or less, but Tony sees the corner of his mouth twitch.

“We’re the same age!” Tony says accusingly, pointing at him. “You’re actually older than me!”

“Plus you have Pepper.”

“Pepper is perfectly fine with me saving the world.”

“She’s going to kill you when she finds out how bad the Ultron thing really was.”

“Good thing she left for Hong Kong last night.”

Rhodey groans and leans back against the cushions, closing his eyes like he can’t bear to look at Tony anymore. “You are ridiculous.”

“And you’re really going to take this job.”

Rhodey shrugs a shoulder. “Well when Captain America offers you a spot on his team you can’t really turn him down.”

“Sure you can. You just say ‘Aw hell no, Cap.’”

“When would I ever say something like that.”

Tony stretches out on the couch, nudging Rhodey’s leg with his foot. “What will your Air Force buddies think, huh? Your favorite bosses? Going to work for some Army loser.”

Rhodey drops a hand to Tony’s ankle, stopping the nudging. “They’ll say just drop it, Tony. Besides, it’s working _with_ Captain America, not for him. They’ll be jealous.”

Tony can’t really argue with that. Rhodey already complains about how many people think it’s cool he knows Iron Man. People probably think being on the same team with Captain America is cooler. Not that Iron Man isn’t the coolest, of course, but for _some_ reason Cap always wins on those internet polls.

“You did a good job,” Tony admits quietly, wiggling his foot.

Grinning, Rhodey gives Tony’s ankle a squeeze. “Told you I could hold my own.”

A dangerous gleam flickers through Tony’s eyes, and he hooks his foot over the top of Rhodey’s thigh. “Guess that means I should follow through on my promise.”

He sits up and shuffles across the couch, leaning into Rhodey’s space as he reaches across him to set the glass down on the table on this side of the couch. “What do you say?” He drapes one arm around Rhodey’s shoulders and rests the other hand on his chest.

“You’re making it weird again,” Rhodey says, but he’s smiling and he doesn’t stop Tony as he drags his hand lower, down his chest and over his stomach until it’s resting on Rhodey’s belt buckle. “Shouldn’t we wait for Pepper?”

“She’s in Hong Kong. Can’t wait that long.”

“She’ll still be mad you almost died again.”

“She’ll forgive me when I video chat her in for round two later.” He deftly unbuckles Rhodey’s belt one-handed before slipping his hand beneath his waistband and cupping him lovingly over his boxer shorts. Rhodey tilts his hips up into Tony’s touch, and Tony grins and strokes more firmly.

“Yeah, you want that, don’t you?” Tony purrs, palming the head of Rhodey’s dick so the first few squirts of precome soak into the fabric.

“Don’t make it weird again, Tony,” Rhodey repeats with a breathy laugh, gripping the arm of the couch with one hand.

“What, I can’t sweet talk my sugarcrunch honeybear?” Tony asks innocently, pressing the heel of his hand back down along Rhodey’s length and smiling when Rhodey muffles a gasp.

“Not if you’re going to make me sound like a breakfast cereal.”

“I’m wounded. You love my nicknames.”

Rhodey reaches out and runs his hand lightly through Tony’s hair, just once. “Come on, _honeybear_ , you promised to hold my own. Don’t let me down now.”

“Told you you wanted it.” Tony grins and tugs down Rhodey’s boxers without further preamble, admiring the flushed curve of his erection rubbing against his belly now that nothing’s holding it back. Tony doesn’t waste any time wrapping his hand around it, twisting his wrist just the way Rhodey likes it as he runs his hand over his length.

At the same time he mouths at Rhodey’s jaw, leaning into him as he slowly moves his hand, and bites at the sensitive skin right below his jaw line. Rhodey lets out another breathy gasp, and Tony shifts uncomfortably on the couch, trying to readjust himself before his pants become any more constricting.

“Looks like you want it too,” Rhodey points out, because of course he noticed that. Tony twists his wrist again, cutting off whatever Rhodey tries to say next. Rolling his eyes at Tony’s obvious attempt to distract him, he turns toward Tony and reaches up to cup his cheek, tilting his face closer so he can give him a kiss. Tony leans into it, kissing him back eagerly, letting his hand slow on Rhodey’s cock.

“You were worried about me, huh? During the fight?” Rhodey says once they break the kiss, rubbing his cheek against the scratchy growth of Tony’s beard. “You need to shave.”

Tony scoffs, thumbing the head of Rhodey’s cock just to see him shiver again. “Sorry it’s been a stressful couple of days,” he says, ignoring the first part of Rhodey’s comment. “Didn’t exactly have time for proper grooming. If I put a pea under your mattress will that bother you too?”

“I’m surprised you know that story.

“Cheer up, sourpatch, we’re celebrating,” Tony practically drawls, drawing out the word ‘sourpatch’ because he knows it’ll make Rhodey smile. Or look annoyed. Either one’s good.

“Celebrating saving the world from the killer robot _you_ created?”

“What, that’s not worth celebrating?”

Rhodey snorts, giving Tony a look. “You’ll celebrate anything as an excuse to get laid.”

Tony pretends to look offended at the remark, but it’s hard to pretend like that when you can hear your boyfriend’s breathing quicken as you jerk him off. “That’s patently false,” he says with a smirk instead of a frown.

Rhodey doesn’t look convinced. “You wanted to celebrate me getting my appendix out with sex.”

“And? Is that not celebration worthy either?”

“I was recovering from surgery.”

Tony shrugs, leaning in to kiss Rhodey’s neck some more. “Minor surgery.”

“You tore my stitches,” Rhodey protests, but it comes out a little breathy, and he sighs when he sees Tony’s smug expression.

“Well then you shouldn’t have asked me to have sex while you were recovering from surgery.”

“You really always have to have the last word,” Rhodey mutters through gritted teeth as Tony tightens his grip.

“And you shouldn’t even be able to speak from the pleasure right now,” Tony retorts, trailing his kisses down along Rhodey’s jaw again.

Right on cue Rhodey lets out a quiet moan as Tony’s calloused hand catches on a spot right below the head of his cock. Tony hums approvingly, repeating the motion and nipping at Rhodey’s ear with his teeth, and Rhodey drops his head back against the couch cushions, saying,

“You should put your mouth to better use for once.”

“Bossy,” Tony murmurs, but he slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of Rhodey without another word. Rhodey immediately perks up (as do certain parts of his anatomy), eager to watch as Tony licks his lips and takes him into his mouth. He sucks at the tip, licking up the precome smeared around by his hand, and when Rhodey slides a hand into his hair he takes him in deeper.

Rhodey gasps softly, carding his fingers through Tony’s already mussed up hair, and Tony applies just the slightest hint of teeth to make Rhodey tighten his grip. No matter what Rhodey says he always ends up indulging Tony, and now is no exception as he tugs at Tony’s hair, making it stand up messily before he pushes him down by the back of his head.

Tony moans sloppily around Rhodey’s cock, gagging slightly, and Rhodey’s touch turns gentle again, stroking his hair. Tony doesn’t seem deterred at all, starting up an even rhythm as he sucks Rhodey’s cock, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks to elicit more moans from him. One of Tony’s hands grips Rhodey’s thigh, thumb pressing into the dip between hip and leg. His other hand slips down between his own legs, undoing his jeans with only minor fumbling and taking himself in hand. Groaning, he starts up a quick pace, jerking himself off in sync with his mouth on Rhodey.

Rhodey looks back down when Tony lets out another moan, catching sight of what he’s doing and tugging lightly on his hair. “Hey, hey, I was gonna—get up here. C’mon.”

Reluctantly, Tony pulls away just enough to speak, but Rhodey leans down before he can say anything, tilting Tony’s head back with a grip on his hair. He kisses him briefly, then sits up, drawing Tony up onto the couch with him.

“Could’ve let me finish,” Tony grumbles, but he doesn’t protest when Rhodey pushes him down on the couch and looms over him. “Hello, soldier.”

“You could at least refer to me by rank if you’re going to do that.”

“Should I drape myself in the American flag and salute you while I’m at it?”

Rhodey huffs and shakes his head, pushing Tony’s shirt up so he can run his hands over Tony’s warm, smooth skin. “Maybe if you’re planning on seducing Captain America.”

“Careful, that’s your new boss. No dirty thoughts.”

“I think you were better off with my dick in your mouth,” Rhodey mutters, and presses down against him for another kiss, taking both of their cocks in hand.

Tony softly murmurs Rhodey’s name, hands grasping the back of his shirt as he kisses along Rhodey’s jaw and neck again. Rhodey tilts his head and catches Tony’s lips with his own instead, not hesitating to slip his tongue into his mouth, licking the taste of himself from Tony. Just thinking about Tony sucking his cock, remembering what he looked like with his lips stretched wide around him, is enough to make Rhodey groan and tighten his grip.

Tony tries to sneak a hand between them to help, but Rhodey nudges him away, not letting him take control of the pace. His strokes are slow yet steady, just the right method to drive Tony mad, who always wants it fast and rough. He voices his displeasure by bucking his hips, trying to thrust into Rhodey’s hand, but Rhodey holds him down with his other hand, pinning him with his hips. This is fine by Tony now that the two of them are pressed together hip to hip, giving him more contact between them. Rhodey’s pants are tangled around his knees, and Tony grasps at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up so he can get his hands on bare skin.

Rhodey doesn’t seem to mind, returning the favor in kind by shoving his free hand up Tony’s shirt and pinching a nipple between his fingers. Tony gasps and bucks his hips again, and this time Rhodey lets him, groaning a little as their cocks slide against each other.

Grabbing Rhodey’s shoulders, Tony pulls him down for another kiss, still trying to rock his hips in time with Rhodey’s strokes. “Yeah, that’s it,” he breathes, nails digging into Rhodey’s shoulders as he groans and arches up against him. “Fucking hell, come on.”

“You’re terrible at begging,” Rhodey says, but he picks up the speed just enough to make Tony let out a pleased moan.

“I’m not _beg_ ging, I’m egging you on.”

“Same thing.” Rhodey leans in and kisses him hard before he can keep talking, hand splayed wide against his chest to keep him down. Tony doesn’t protest, kissing him with just as much enthusiasm as before, the quick strokes of Rhodey’s other hand drawing more moans from him. Rhodey is quiet, soft noises muffled against Tony’s lips, but it’s clearly affecting him too, his movements becoming more erratic, almost desperate as he jerks them off together.

This time when Tony tries to slide a hand between them Rhodey lets him, and Tony joins his hand with Rhodey’s around their cocks. His chatter, already mostly breathy nonsense, devolves into a near constant litany of Rhodey’s name as he gets closer to completion.

Tony’s always loud when he comes, he doesn't even try to stay quiet. Rhodey assumes he just enjoys making a scene, but he’d be lying if he said Tony’s strangled cry of “Fuck, Jim—!” isn’t a large factor in how quickly he comes right after Tony.

They stay pressed close to each other, the two of them spilling over their hands. The brunt of it coats Tony’s stomach, the sight making Rhodey’s cock twitch despite being totally spent. When they’re done and Rhodey can actually focus again, Tony looks like the cat that caught the canary, stretched out on the couch beneath him with his hair all mussed and his stomach a mess. He reaches up to pull Rhodey back in for a lazy kiss, managing to even be smug in that as he lets out a satisfied hum.

“So, you going to admit it yet?” Rhodey asks when Tony finally lets him go.

Tony gives him a quizzical look. “Admit what?”

“That I can hold my own,” Rhodey says with a smirk, and Tony stares at him for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me, dear.” He grins and pinches Rhodey’s cheek. “You’ll always be my knight in gunmetal gray armor.”

“You’re still peeved about Iron Patriot, aren’t you.”

“Immeasurably. I cried tears of joy when you switched back.”

“You’re something else, you know that,” Rhodey says, leaning over to press a kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“Maybe War Machine can continue to be a hero and get something to clean me up. Like he cleaned up those Ultron bots earlier. That was enough to make a guy swoon.”

“Okay, now you’re overdoing it.” Shaking his head, he sits up and leans over to grab some napkins from the coffee table, throwing them onto Tony's chest.

“Love you too, sugarcrunch honeybear,” Tony replies with a grin, and laughs loudly when Rhodey drops another napkin on his face. “Love you too.”


End file.
